


I Think I'm Gone

by The_Golden_Trashcan_TM



Category: Sanders Sides
Genre: Not even remotely sorry, SO, angst baby, it's - Freeform, much - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 21:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21362719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Golden_Trashcan_TM/pseuds/The_Golden_Trashcan_TM
Summary: Virgil goes to look for his love and partner Patton with newby Logan tagging along.
Kudos: 8





	I Think I'm Gone

Virgil was tired of waiting. A week had already passed since Patton went out and there still wasn’t any sign of him. Jules refused to look and Neil wouldn’t undermine anything he said. Not even Cameron, who barely listened to anything anyone said, would go.

“Listen, V.” He wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulder, leaning in and fanning his perpetual booze-soaked breath all over him. “This ain’t got shit to do with me. Patton is a good kid, but I’m not risking my neck for him.”

Virgil ducked under Cameron’s arm and crossed his arms. “And how many times has he risked his for yours?” Virgil shot back.

“Eh, well,” Cameron shrugged. “That was his choice.”

“If Patton had a choice, he wouldn’t even be here picking up the slack dumbass adults like you who can’t even manage.”

Logan snickered at Cameron’s expression as they turned away. “What are you gonna— Hey!” Cameron grabbed a fistful of Logan’s hair and pulled him back. Virgil crossed his arms and watched revulsion, disgust, and anger chase each other across Logan’s features. Getting a rise out of Logan was difficult since he had such a laid-back-sarcastic-devil-may-care attitude, but he abhorred being touch. Be it his actual skin or something on his person, it moved him to violence.

Logan threw his head back, head-butting Cameron’s chin and forcing him to release his hold on Logan. He threw her elbow into Cameron’s solar plexus before kicking him.

“Touch me again and next time it’s your throat.” He took a deep breath, slowly relaxing his tense stance. “Look, whatever beef you have with V has nothing to do with me. It obviously has something more to do with what just happened, but leave me out of it and take it up with the offender.”

Logan was right that Virgil and Cameron had beef before this. Cam hated the way Virgil just sort of blended into to his new status and surroundings without blinking an eye when he, a grown man, couldn’t do it without too many beers and many more cigars.

“You’ve certainly gotten more violent,” Virgil said as they walked away, this time unbothered.

“I’ve always been violent—just in spades. Being here makes me feel like I have to be or else something might happen to me. Anyway, back to my question before Cam the Idiot cut me off: what are you gonna do about Cass?”

Virgil’s mood soured even more. “I’ll go look for him tonight. Nothing to get me in trouble, just a quick look around by Hit the Mark.”

He wrung his fingers together, shoulders hunching in as he asked, “Can I go with you?”

Virgil gave him a sideways glance. Logan looked like he was trying to make himself smaller. “Why are you asking when you never have before?”

“Well, this seems kind of personal whereas everything else was just work. It’s polite to ask.”

“Shoot first ask later.” They left the common area behind, going into one of the many halls housing rooms for the less fortunate—the only real service the casino offered. “It’s fine if you come with me. Nothing should happen anyway.” Yet, even as Virgil said that he couldn’t help but feel something _had_ happened. That maybe, just maybe, Patton wouldn’t be coming back.

Virgil shook his head, shooing the thought away. Patton was good at what he did. Get in, take the tiara, get out—there’s no way Patton wouldn’t be able to do that. “Come by my room at midnight. Right now, I want to be alone.”

“Right. I have been attached to you since I got here.” Logan nodded as he went down the hallway, disappearing into the last door.

Virgil almost regretted sending Logan away as he fell onto his bed. He was used to having Patton’s constant company with brief breaks between. Having Logan around was nice, but his presence was much calmer than Patton. Virgil would have much rather been around him in spades then twenty-four-seven. Shame there was no one else willing to train Logan so Virgil could take a break from him.

“I miss you, Patton,” Virgil mumbled as he drifted off into sleep. It didn’t feel like long before he heard soft footsteps approaching his door.

Virgil opened his eyes as Logan knocked on his door. “Are you awake?”

“Just barely,” Virgil mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Just wait a moment.” Virgil rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, stretching and groping for his knives. Out of habit and comfort, they were the first things he went for when waking up. He could never know when he would need them. Hiding them expertly on his person, Virgil opened the door and pulled Logan in. “We’re not actually supposed to go out at night without permission—we could slip out and never come back. But we just have to be back before the casino closes and we’ll be fine. Probably.”

“So, we have three hours. Um, how are we getting out?”

Virgil pointed. “The window, of course.”

Logan edged over and peeked down to the ground. “How are we getting down from here?”

“Luck and skill.” Virgil opened the window and leaned out, pressing against the frame so Logan could see. “Look, there’s a ladder right there, from that fire escape. You’ll have to jump. Below that is a dumpster—a four-foot drop you should be able to make. If not, that’s on you.”

“Love your faith.” Logan pulled back and gestured forward. “Lead the way.”

“Make sure you close the window when you get out.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Just leave it open then. Follow me and try not to make too much noise.”

“Who’s going to hear us over the casino?” Logan asked as Virgil hopped onto the windowsill and dived out the window. The wind raced around him as he wrapped his hands around the ladder. After many trials and errors, he knew how much force to put into his jump so as not to face plant into the ladder.

Virgil dropped down the ladder then onto the dumpster. Logan was still leaning out the window, watching. “Get a move on.”

“What if I break my nose?”

“Like I said, that’s on you.”

He warily looked over the distance between the window and ladder, backed up, then jumped. He let out a small squeal as he almost fell short and banged against the ladder. “I’m starting to have second thoughts about this,” he gasped. “Can I just— Can I just stay here?”

“Would you like to dangle for three hours? Just let go of the ladder.”

“Pretty sure I bruised my knees and one of them is bleeding. In short, my legs _really_ frigging hurt.”

“My _soul_ hurts. Let go or I’ll leave you.” Logan looked ready to close his eyes but kept them open as he dropped onto the dumpster. his legs buckled beneath the sudden weight and caved. Tripping, he toppled from the lid and into my arms.

“Jeez.” He puffed his hair from his face. “You’re deceptively strong for someone so scrawny.”

“_You’re_ scrawny. And you weigh as much as a stop sign.” Virgil let him down and started forward, keeping an eye out for the callers.

“I have a high metabolism.” He said.

Just like Patton, Virgil thought. “Keep up with me and look inconspicuous.” Making it past the callers was the hard part, which is to say, making it to Hit the Mark was easy. They’d never seen Logan before (he liked to prowl the halls of the casino, making sarcastic quips about the people he saw and hated the cold) and if Virgil kept his head down he wouldn’t be recognized. From there they hustled through the crowds of people flocking to buildings to spend money and try their luck.

“How far away is this other casino?” Logan asked once the crowd had thinned. In between casino was always less crowded and loud.

“Give us ten minutes and—” Virgil stopped short then backtracked. The alley was nondescript and easy enough to look past and the smell from the trash cans made it easier to avoid. But Virgil didn’t care about the alley. His eyes were on the person lying face down, blood pooling around their still body.

“Uh, V? What are you—?”

“Stay here and don’t move.” Virgil started forward, panic swelling in his chest, trying not to let it overwhelm him. “Do you remember the way to the casino?”

“More or less. Why— What is happening?” Virgil could hear the worry building in his voice and could see the beginnings of stiffness in his posture as he tried to see what Virgil saw, like a spring coil being wound. But Virgil ignored him, creeping forward, the ball of panic getting bigger and bigger with each step.

The panic swelled and burst as Virgil looked at Patton’s bruised profile. His cheek had been cut and his breathing was choked and labored as Virgil rolled him onto his back.

Despite the scene, Virgil found his wits, checking for a pulse and calling out: “Logan! Go back to the casino and ask for someone who can tend to gun wounds.” There were too many times when Virgil had come across someone dead or dying to let this get the better of him. Even when—even when that someone was the one person he cared about most.

Logan stood, frozen against the background of the busy street, clutching his shirt for dear life. “Logan. He will _die_ if you don’t move. _Go._” He jerked into action, sprinting down the street.

Virgil moved Patton’s head into his lap, softly calling his name. “Wake up, Patton. _Please_ wake up.”

Patton stirred and coughed, eyes fluttering and breath stuttering. Virgil made a sound—half sigh, half sob. “Thank God you’re awake.”

“V? Why are you here?” Patton tried to move then winced, hand hovering close to his side.

“That doesn’t matter, just stay awake for me, Patton. Stay awake.”

“But I’m so tired. I can’t…” He trailed off, his words slurring.

Panic started to rise again and Virgil shook him, trying to keep his eyes open. “Focus on me, Patton. **I think you need stitches** and you’ll be okay.” Virgil grasped at anything in his muddled mind that would grab Patton’s attention. What would keep his focused? “You had something to tell me. What was it? Keep your eyes on me.”

“What I wanted to say… It was important.” His breathing evened out as his eyes focused on something beyond Virgil. Virgil’s heart starting pounding as a minute ticked by without any movement, then Patton gasped as he said, “I love you.”

Virgil’s heart stuttered. “What?”

“You were always so hot and cold with your temper.” Patton closed his eyes, but there was a small smile on his lips. “I could never understand what you were feeling so I thought if I could do something like this, maybe I could say this too.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Virgil murmured. “I love you, Patton. I’ve always loved you.” Patton’s head cradled in Virgil’s lap, he lowered his forehead to Patton’s, a roaring ache in his chest. What Virgil felt for Patton was something fiercer that ordinary love. It was built on the foundation that they were both doing whatever it took to survive and they were willing to sacrifice whatever means to ensure the safety of the other. It was strong and needy and reliant and steadfast.

And now that Virgil could name it, that he could realize what he felt, Patton might not even survive.

“V,” Logan whispered. Virgil kept his head down, already knowing what Logan was going to say. Already knowing no one came back with him. He sniffed, his voice thick with tears. “V, they aren’t coming. He said…he said if Patton died then his debt would be repaid. I-I’m sorry, V. I’m so sorry.”

“V,” Patton murmured. “V, can you do me a favor?”

Virgil almost choked on his words as he said, “Anything.”

“Get out. Promise me you’ll get out.”

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Patton die. Not wanting to see the life leave him. “Please don’t talk like that. _Please_ don’t talk like you’re going to die. I can’t— I can’t take it.”

“I won’t,” Patton smiled. “I won’t. I can’t feel it anyway. I feel…tired.”

“Then sleep,” Virgil said. “Sleep and dream of something better. Something complete.”

“I can do that, I think.”

And so they sat in the alley as Virgil cried and waited for Patton’s heartbeat to fade. As Virgil pleaded and begged with any god to save him. To please save the one person who believed Virgil was more than a street rat. Who believed Virgil could be more than just a kid with nothing more half a name and a birthplace to go on.

As Logan stood at the edge of the alley, silently crying for a boy he’d never met. As he held himself so as not to run away. As he bowed his head to mourn.

“Hey, Patton,” Virgil whispered when Patton’s breathing had long since faded and his body had stilled for good. “Do you remember that day we first met? That day when it rained so hard and so long. I never told you, but I almost wished we’d never met. Maybe then I’d never have fallen for you.”

Virgil lowered Patton’s head to the ground, joints jerking and popping as he stood. “Call the police, Logan. Get them here somehow. He needs…he needs proper care now.”

Logan pressed his hands to his eyes. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I just…” Virgil’s legs felt wobbly and numb. How he was going to do anything, he didn’t know. And right now, he didn’t care.

“I’ll come with you—”

“No. I can’t— I don’t want—” Virgil took a deep breath although it only served to make him lightheaded and dizzy. “Go back and-and stay.”

“But I—”

“Logan, _please_. I just want to be left alone.”

Logan sniffled, wiping his eyes as he drew himself up and let out a scream. Virgil slipped by as people turned to see why he yelled. He put on a performance of falling down and pointing. But Virgil supposed maybe he really was afraid. Until a month ago, he’d never even seen a dead or dying body outside of a TV screen.

The numbness was fading, replacing it with a sharp, raging pain, taking root in his chest and spreading throughout his body and the only thing he wanted to get away. Away from Patton’s death, away from this pain, away from the thoughts swirling around him.

What reason would Virgil have for staying now that Patton was gone? What reason did he have for _anything_ now that Patton’s was gone? What was he supposed to do now that the one person who understood him, who knew what it was like to be in that hellhole of a place with no escape, was gone? Was he to think of a plan to escape? He didn’t know what to do and he didn’t want to think about anything.

So he didn’t. He didn’t look back or give another thought. The cold air whipping around him and the lights blurring, Virgil did what he did best: he ran.


End file.
